


Spelunking

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [115]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Banter, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Huddling For Warmth, Humor, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Spelunking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14097411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: Merlin has a very strict no-mercy policy when it comes to Things That Try to Eat Arthur.





	Spelunking

 

 

It’s Arthur’s idea to take shelter in the cave. Desperate as Merlin is to get out of the driving snow, his eyes are fixed on the scarlet of Arthur’s cloak in the otherwise featureless landscape, and he’s too busy making sure he doesn’t lose sight of the prince to spot their salvation until Arthur points it out to him.

 

“Are you sure?” Merlin shouts over the howling wind, squinting dubiously at the gaping cavern. They are neither of them inexperienced when it comes to caves; on the contrary, Merlin would almost say they've had _too much_ experience, most of it unpleasant. They know better, therefore, than to assume that this particular hole in the cliff will be empty or safe. “What if there are bears? Or worse. There could be worse. You don’t know what’s in there!”

 

“Don't be such a girl, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur says confidently, leading the way past the rocky outcropping and out of the storm. There's snow in his hair and in the folds of his cloak, but for all that he still manages to look completely in control of the situation, the git. “It's perfectly safe. Besides, I have my sword. What's the worst that could happen?”

 

“Gosh, I don't know,” Merlin grumbles. “An avalanche, for starters? A horde of angry dragons? The last time you said 'what's the worst that could happen?' you nearly died.”

 

“Yes, well.” Arthur looks briefly disconcerted. “When you say it like _that_ , of course it sounds like a bad idea. Would you rather die out there in the blizzard?”

 

Merlin sighs. “I suppose not.”

 

“There you are, then. Now hurry up and conjure us a fire.”

 

 

+

 

 

There are times, Merlin thinks, when he almost regrets telling Arthur his secret. For the most part, Arthur had taken the revelation that his manservant not only had magic but was actually quite good at it in his stride; there had only been a minimal amount of yelling, and the resulting deluge of impossible chores had stopped as soon as Arthur realised Merlin was just using his magic to do them. Arthur was even comparatively circumspect when it came to ordering Merlin to do magic in and around the citadel—his official orders were _never_ and _if I catch you using it here I will string you up myself_ , which Merlin ignored with impunity whenever it suited him. At moments like this, however, when it is just the two of them far away from civilisation…

 

“What’s taking so long?” Arthur demands, poking Merlin in the ribs. “I’m freezing!”

 

“S-s-so am I,” Merlin manages indignantly, trying to control his chattering teeth. “But magic t-takes concentration, Arthur. Unless you w-want me to accidentally set your c-cloak on f-fire.” 

 

Arthur rolls his eyes, but subsides, and Merlin holds out a hand towards the charred fire-pit in the centre of the cave. Obviously, they’re not the first stranded travellers to take shelter here, although from the looks of it they’re the first in a long while. 

 

“ _Baerne_ ,” Merlin commands. 

 

To his relief, the ashes flicker and suddenly spring to life, and a moment later there is a roaring fire between them, filling the cave with a brilliant orange light. Merlin closes his eyes for a moment as the heat washes over him, exhaling a slow breath. He hadn’t realised how tense he was, or how worried, until the largest of his anxieties had been lifted. At least now he knows they’re not going to freeze to death.

 

“There,” he says, turning to Arthur. He’s about to demand some kind of apology—or at least some recognition of his success—when he sees the prince’s eyes widen, and whirls around just in time to see the flames shiver and go out as a gust of icy breath hisses through the cave. A moment later, the thing that the breath belongs to is looming over them, big, dark, and covered in ice, because _of course_ the cave is already occupied. It stands to reason. And naturally the thing is massive enough that Arthur doesn’t even bother to draw his sword before shouting, “ _Run!”_

 

“Oh _no_ ,” Merlin groans, even as Arthur grabs his arm and starts dragging him towards the exit. “I told you there would be worse. I _told_ you!”

 

“We can argue about that later,” Arthur huffs, shoving Merlin along ahead of him. “Escape now, complain about my choice of shelter when we’re not running for our lives.” 

 

 

+

 

 

They end up huddling beneath a fallen log, somewhere deep enough in the forest that the thing—whatever it was—is unlikely to follow them. Normally this would not be sufficient protection against the blizzard that is now raging around them, but as Arthur points out, Merlin has _magic_ , which broadens their options considerably. It means a lot more work for Merlin, who now has to produce and hold a shield charm as well as keep the fire going against the cold, but there are up-sides as well: since Merlin’s bubble of warm air only extends so far, it is necessary for the two of them to share Arthur’s cloak, allowing Merlin to curl up against Arthur’s broadly muscled chest with unwonted freedom. 

 

It’s possible that he _could_ have extended the shield far enough that this would not have been necessary, but somehow he doesn’t feel very compelled to try. Better safe than sorry, and all that. 

 

“Are you going to go back and kill that thing, when the snow stops?” Merlin asks drowsily, picking at the hem of Arthur’s cloak and staring into the dancing flames. He’s not sure how he feels about the idea—the monster had only been protecting itself, after all, but Merlin has a very strict no-mercy policy when it comes to Things That Try to Eat Arthur. 

 

“Do you want me to?” Arthur pokes a stick into the fire, sending up a cascade of sparks. “I don't think it’s really much of a threat. How many people are likely to find their way into that cave, anyway?”

 

“ _Someone_ had to have made that fire-pit,” Merlin points out, trying to ignore the sudden surge of affection in his chest. Arthur has come a long way since he killed that unicorn. “Besides, it tried to bite you. It’s probably evil.” 

 

“ _That’s_ your criteria for what makes something evil?” Arthur asks, looking down at him fondly. “Because I seem to recall you looking at me as if you wanted to devour me once or twice—”

 

“Shut up,” Merlin says, blushing. Arthur smirks, and Merlin pinches him for looking so very pleased with himself. Unfortunately, Arthur is used to this, and he catches Merlin’s wrist before he can do any damage, forcing him easily back into the snow. He’s wearing too many layers for it to work, anyway. 

 

“I’ll think about it,” Arthur says, when they’ve finished wrestling and Merlin, who had lost, is wedged firmly in Arthur’s lap, Arthur’s arms wrapped tightly around him. It's a fate he has learned to accept. “Maybe come back with some knights in the spring to see if it’s still there, if it means that much to you.” 

 

“God forbid anyone else get trapped and eaten in a cave,” Merlin says firmly, and he settles back into Arthur’s embrace, letting his eyes drift shut as he listens to the drumbeat of Arthur’s heart. “At this point, it’s becoming a terrible cliché.” 

 


End file.
